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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26341681">Life Anew</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Styfas/pseuds/Styfas'>Styfas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Music RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angel Wings, Dialogue Heavy, Gen, One Shot, Swearing, talk of masturbation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:33:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,759</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26341681</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Styfas/pseuds/Styfas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After his demise, Tiny Tim is taken on a journey.  When he reaches his destination, he is greeted by Freddie Mercury.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Life Anew</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>On another forum, many years ago, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetDeceiver/pseuds/SweetDeceiver">SweetDeceiver</a>, knowing of my fondness for Queen and Freddie Mercury (as well as Tiny Tim!), gave a prompt:  A meeting between Tiny Tim and Freddie Mercury, any era. So…this is where I went with that one!</p><p>1)  The title of the fic comes from a Johnny Carson interview years ago, when Tiny, having lost some of his fame and fortune, and now performing in hotel ballrooms, talks about gratefulness, and about his joy for "Life Anew!"  I wish this interview were still on YouTube, but it was taken down years ago.  😥  </p><p>2)  Fic begins very, very, very close to midnight (US Central Time) on November 30, 1996.</p><p>3) Tiny Tim is dead. Freddie is dead. Once you get past that, let the silliness ensue.</p><p>4) Yeah, Tim was Catholic, Freddie was Zaroastrian, and well - let's just say God is God, and whatever after that.  Freddie would likely not be in a Heaven/Purgatory/Hell realm - let's just call it Afterlife, either way.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p><br/>The first thing Tiny Tim noticed was that the heaviness in his chest had subsided. Now he felt light and free, and able to float upwards. He hovered just under the ceiling and watched, fascinated, as the hospital team continued to work on his lifeless body.<br/><br/>One of the physicians finally let loose with a heavy sigh. He slowly lowered his arms to his side and shook his head. “He’s gone…”<br/><br/>Tiny felt himself being drawn swiftly upwards through a tunnel of light. <em>Just as it has been described by so many</em>, he thought. <em>My beautiful Miss Sue, I’m so sorry to be leaving you all alone. I’ll miss you terribly…</em><br/><br/>Tiny knew his journey was over when he gently landed atop a giant cloud. He found himself facing a man who was seated at a large wooden desk. This man was not clothed in what Tiny had long assumed would be typical of Heavenly garb. He wore a flowing black robe with a slit in the back through which massive red wings protruded. He had short dark brown hair and a thick moustache. Tiny recognized him instantly.<br/><br/>“Mr. Mercury?”<br/><br/>“Darling, no need to stand on formality. You may call me Freddie. Welcome!”<br/><br/>“But why am I <em>here</em>?”<br/><br/>“Because here is where you’re meant to be!” Freddie followed his remark with a cackling laugh.<br/><br/>Tiny shifted his gaze several times, looking everywhere but at Freddie. “I don’t understand. All my life, I did my very best to serve Jesus and God. Naturally, I’m a sinner, like everyone else – we’re <em>all</em> sinners – but I kept His commandments, and I never took the Lord’s name in vain. I resisted temptation, and I resisted touching myself in an unholy manner. I didn’t always succeed – but I did my very best. I always felt horrible afterwards; and I always repented. But there was a time when I went nearly two years without touching myself, and I – “<br/><br/>“Erm…too much information,” Freddie said with a grimace.<br/><br/>“Mr. Mercury,” Tiny said in a tremulous voice, “am I in… Hell?”<br/><br/>“Good Heavens, no. And do pardon the pun,” Freddie snickered.<br/><br/>“Then I’m in…Purgatory?”<br/><br/>“Why, you’re in Heaven, of course!”<br/><br/>“Then what are <em>you</em> doing here?”<br/><br/>“Obviously, I have the honor of welcoming Newcomers,” Freddie answered matter-of-factly. “There are twelve members on the welcoming committee, and this just happens to be my annual month of Front Desk Duty. I trust you were expecting to see St. Peter? Had you waited just another hour, he’d be greeting you now. His shift starts at midnight; he has Duty in December.”<br/><br/>“No, what I meant was that I honestly wasn’t expecting <em>you</em> to be… <em>here</em>.”<br/><br/>Freddie lifted his eyebrows. “Oh?”<br/><br/>“You engaged in sodomy, and were highly promiscuous, besides. I’m not one to stand in judgment of your lifestyle – but I can’t fathom why you -”<br/><br/>“Oh, I’m not <em>all </em>bad,” Freddie said with a smirk. “I must be proof positive that God is a forgiving sort; hmmm?”<br/><br/>Tiny narrowed his eyes and looked down his nose at Freddie. “How do I know you’re not trying to fool me?”<br/><br/>Freddie banged both fists against the desktop. “This is Heaven, damn it! Why the fuck would I lie about something like this?”</p><p>After wincing, Tiny shrugged and shook his head, lacking a reply.<br/><br/>Freddie threw his hands up in the air. “Let me guess; you need <em>proof</em>; is that it?”<br/><br/>“I – I didn’t say as much, but I – I‘m sure you can understand why…”<br/><br/>A loud, exasperated breath left Freddie’s lips. “Fine! I’m sure you’ll be quite pleased to know that you’re not the first to have asked for proof after seeing that I’m at this desk.”<br/><br/>Tiny nodded smugly.<br/><br/>“Firstly, your quarters have already been prepared, and your pantry has been stocked with a case of Aunt Millie’s Spaghetti Sauce with Bell Peppers and Onions, just to get you started.”<br/><br/>Tiny’s jaw dropped. “Really?”<br/><br/>“Disgusting, if you ask me. But yes, <em>really</em>. You’ll have an Afterlifetime supply of the stuff.”<br/><br/>“I love Aunt Millie’s Spaghetti Sauce. I would often have a whole jar of it for breakfast. And one for lunch, too.”<br/><br/>“Yes, we are all well aware,” Freddie said, “and the sooner we get all the paperwork out of the way, then the sooner you’ll be able to have a jar. Now, if you’ll just sign the register, then -”<br/><br/>“Not yet.” Tiny backed up a step. “It’s not enough for you to <em>tell</em> me about it. I want to see a jar. Now.”<br/><br/>Freddie rolled his eyes. “Very well.” He snapped his fingers, and a jar of the sauce materialized on the desk. “Don’t just stand there staring at it; pick it up! It’s real as real can be.”<br/><br/>With shaking hands, Tiny picked up the jar, rotated it in his palms, and inspected the label. “May I open it?”<br/><br/>“It’s in your hands, dear. Go right ahead.”<br/><br/>Tiny opened the jar and inhaled the aroma. An ecstatic sigh left his lips. “Delightful!”<br/><br/>“I trust you’re feeling a bit peckish after your journey?”<br/><br/>“Yes,” Tiny admitted with a subtle blush in his cheeks.<br/><br/>“Let’s finish with Check In, and then you may feel free to drink up.”<br/><br/>“Thank you,” Tiny said. He screwed the lid back onto the jar and held it close to his chest.<br/><br/>Freddie opened a large red leather-bound book with gold gilt-edged pages and pivoted it so that the writing was right-side up for Tiny’s view. “Here’s where you’ll sign,” Freddie said, pointing to a blank that Tiny was to fill in.<br/><br/>“This is all very tempting. But I’m sorry, I can’t sign yet. I-I’m still not convinced. Spaghetti sauce isn’t enough.”<br/><br/>“What the fuck?”<br/><br/>“You’re wearing black and red!” Tiny blurted out. “Those aren’t exactly <em>Heavenly</em> colors.”<br/><br/>“Darling, we don’t <em>all</em> wear white up here; that’s just the stereotype. You may choose whatever color robe you’d like to wear. Or if you’d prefer a pattern, that can be arranged, too; stripes, paisleys, polka dots, or even one of your tacky plaids. You may even choose your wing color – or <em>colors</em>. Speaking of which,” Freddie said, gesturing with one hand, and then the other, “robes and wings are to be found over there, and harps are over there.”<br/><br/>“No, thank you. I don’t want a harp,” Tiny said firmly.<br/><br/>“This is Heaven. We’re Angels. Angels play harps. <em>Tiptoe Thru the Tulips</em> will be lovely with a harp accompaniment, I’m sure.”<br/><br/>Tiny quickly shook his head. “But I don’t want a harp!” he cried. “I want my ukulele; do you understand? I’ve played it for years, and it’s a part of me.” He began to panic as realization set in. “But…oh, no! I didn’t bring it here with me. I was performing, and when I came offstage, I was still holding my ukulele. Then I collapsed, and – well, you know the rest. They took my ukulele from me! Oh, this is terrible! What will I do?”<br/><br/>“Darling, don’t you worry,” Freddie said gently. “If you want a ukulele, then we’ll get you a ukulele.”<br/><br/>“Not just <em>a</em> ukulele,” Tiny said, close to tears. “I want <em>my </em>ukulele. <em>Please!”<br/></em><br/>Freddie was genuinely touched by Tiny’s insistence and felt for his plight. “Oh, dear,” he said. “We’ll find it for you, Tiny; I’ll get someone on it as soon as possible. I promise.”<br/><br/>“Why should I believe you? If you’re not able to get it for me right away, then how do I know that your motives are honest?”<br/><br/>Faced with Tiny’s escalating panic and frustration, Freddie did his best to remain calm. “For all I know, it’s possible that your loved ones may be planning to bury or entomb you – that is to say, your Earthly <em>body</em> – with your ukulele. And if that’s the case, we must let the funeral and such take place first – and <em>then</em> we’ll retrieve your instrument for you.“<br/><br/>“Oh, would you? Could you? Please?”<br/><br/>“Yes. I’ll be sure to make it happen. I give you my word. But you must be aware that it may take several days. I’ll frequently keep you posted on our progress.”<br/><br/>“Oh, thank you, Mr. Mercury. You don’t know how happy that will make me.” Tiny laughed for joy.<br/><br/>It was the first time that Freddie had seen Tiny smile. “Egad - and I thought <em>I</em> had bad teeth,” he muttered.<br/><br/>“Excuse me?”<br/><br/>“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.” Freddie sat up straighter to initiate a change of topic. “Now, to further put your mind at ease, allow me to name some of the others who reside here: Russ Colombo, Henry Burr -”<br/><br/>“Russ Colombo?” Tiny’s eyes lit up with delight. “Henry Burr?”<br/><br/>“Pardon me, do I hear an echo?” Freddie snapped.<br/><br/>“Will I be able to meet Rudy Vallee? Eddie Cantor? Maurice Chevalier? Frankie Lymon? Billy Murray?”<br/><br/>“Yes, yes. All those, and so many more. All those singers of the past whose songs you’ve kept alive.”<br/><br/>“The songwriters, too?”<br/><br/>“Absolutely.”<br/><br/>Tiny grinned. “What a thrill it will be to meet them all!”<br/><br/>“Yes, I thought you’d be happy about that.”<br/><br/>“May I see them now? Just to be sure that you’re not deceiving me?”<br/><br/>“You’re certainly a difficult one, aren’t you,” Freddie said flatly. “Very well. I’ll show you <em>one</em> of them. How about I show you - ”<br/><br/>“I want to see Russ Colombo!”<br/><br/>“Done.” Freddie snapped his fingers, and Russ Colombo materialized beside Tiny. Tiny shrieked in surprise and dropped his jar of spaghetti sauce. It plummeted downward and through the cloud on which they all were situated. “Don’t worry,” Freddie laughed. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”<br/><br/>Tiny grinned like the star struck fan he was.“Mr. Colombo, what an honor it is to meet you!”<br/><br/>“Hello, Tiny. An honor to meet you, too. You did a great job on that tribute album.”<br/><br/>“Y-You <em>know </em>about that?”<br/><br/>“<em>Prisoner of Love, A Tribute to Russ Colombo</em>, recorded by Tiny Tim, and released in 1995 on Vinyl Retentive Records.”<br/><br/>“Yes!” Tiny giggled unabashedly. Russ Colombo’s recitation resembled the introductions that Tiny would give before each musical number he would be performing in any given concert.<br/><br/>Russ set his hand on Tiny’s shoulder. “It’s good to have you here at last. And I’m sure we’ll be singing together soon.”<br/><br/>Before Tiny could reply, Russ had vanished.<br/><br/>Freddie smiled warmly. “Are you ready to sign now, Tiny?”<br/><br/>“My parents! Oh, how selfish of me not to have thought of them first before all those singers and songwriters. I’ll see them again, too?”<br/><br/>“Of course you will. You can see anyone you want to see. Well, anyone who resides <em>here</em>; I’ll put it that way.” Freddie offered Tiny a large white feather quill.<br/><br/>Tiny eagerly took the quill in hand. “And are there plenty of beautiful women here?”<br/><br/>“Men, too,” Freddie said with a wink.<br/><br/>“Mr. Mercury, I‘m not that sort of man.”<br/><br/>“Well, I am. As you know. Not that it matters, anyway, because there’s no sex up here.”<br/><br/>“No sex?”<br/><br/>“Sorry to disappoint you,” Freddie said. “Although, I can’t help but find it odd that you should be so concerned about sex – and women – so soon after leaving your…” he took a moment to shuffle through some papers until he found the right one “…Miss Sue, is it?”<br/><br/>Tiny sighed. “Yes. I miss her already.”<br/><br/>“She’s not due here for many years, I’m afraid.”<br/><br/>“Poor Miss Sue.”<br/><br/>“She’ll be fine,” Freddie said gently. “You’ll be reunited eventually.”<br/><br/>“When may I see my father and mother? And all those other singers and songwriters?”<br/><br/>“After the Orientation Class.”<br/><br/>“Orientation Class?”<br/><br/>“And there’s that fucking echo again!”<br/><br/>“Mr. Mercury, your language! This is <em>Heaven</em>, after all.”<br/><br/>“Well, nobody’s perfect. As we’ve both established. Just sign here, please.” Freddie indicated the line for Tiny’s signature.<br/><br/>Tiny carefully wrote his signature in the book and handed the quill back to Freddie.<br/><br/>“There, now, wasn’t that easy?” Freddie said. “No thunder and lightning, no sudden darkness, and you haven’t been consumed in flames.” He grinned and spread his arms wide, with his palms facing upward. “All is well.”<br/><br/>Tiny responded with a giddy laugh. “The light is even more glorious and white now. And what beautiful music! I didn’t hear that before I signed the register. Where is it coming from?”<br/><br/>“The Heavenly Choir, dear. And while you’re still here at Check In, I’d like to talk to you about that. You’re an Angel now; and with your having been a singer of some renown on Earth, you will be expected to lend your talents to the Heavenly Choir.”<br/><br/>‘Wonderful,” Tiny replied. “I can’t wait to serenade you all with songs of the past. Why, there are so many songs I’m looking forward to sharing with everyone.”<br/><br/>“As many as you wish, Tiny. We have an Eternity, after all. Now, as to the Choir; I’ll be counting on you to sing a high falsetto B flat for our performance of <em>Bohemian Rhapsody</em> – it’s scheduled for next month’s Heavenly Choir concert.”<br/><br/>“But what if I don’t want -“<br/><br/>“Of course you want! Who <em>wouldn’t</em> want? It’s only one of the most famous songs ever composed!”<br/><br/>“But it’s a song about killing someone! How can you possibly–“ <br/><br/>“Oh, <em>please</em>. Don’t take the lyrics so literally, dear. ‘Mama, just killed a man’ is only a metaphor. So, as to that high B flat; it’s at the end of the opera section, on the lyrics 'for me.'”<br/><br/>“Yes, I know exactly where it is. I’ve heard the song. Who hasn’t?”<br/><br/>“Splendid! You’ve got the job. Your piercing tone with its quick vibrato will do quite nicely; it will pop right out! I’ll come get you for rehearsal in a few hours.”<br/><br/>“That soon?”<br/><br/>“But first, you must choose your robe and wings, and then attend Orientation Class.”<br/><br/>“Mr. Mercury,” Tiny said with sudden shyness, “I was wondering if I might be allowed to have -”<br/><br/>“Another jar of Aunt Millie’s Spaghetti Sauce with Bell Peppers and Onions? Done!” Freddie snapped his fingers to produce another jar, which appeared on the desktop.<br/><br/>“Oh, thank you,” Tiny said as he picked up the jar. “Not to be ungrateful – because I <em>am</em> grateful – but that wasn’t what I was asking for.”<br/><br/>“Speak up, then! I haven’t got much longer here; St. Peter will be showing up within the hour.”<br/><br/>“Mr. Mercury, I was wondering if I might be allowed to have a chance to join the welcoming committee, and to free you from your Duty. I know I’m still new here, but I’d very much like -”<br/><br/>“Very kind of you, dear, but that won’t be necessary. I have no intention of giving up my Duty here.”<br/><br/>“Then maybe we could be a team. You and I could man the desk together every November; you could get the Newcomers checked in, and I could play and sing songs of welcome, or favorite hymns.”<br/><br/>Freddie laughed. “Fab idea! And wouldn’t we be a sight? Can you imagine the looks on the Newcomers’ faces when they see you and me here to greet them?”<br/><br/>Tiny frowned. “Mr. Mercury, I was being entirely serious.”<br/><br/>Freddie ceased his laughter and cleared his throat. “Right. Forgive me. We would be a marvelous team, after all, and I’m sure we’d have great fun together. Well, I’ll be sure to bring it up at the next meeting of the Welcoming Committee.”<br/><br/>“I’d appreciate that.”<br/><br/>“So, just to sum up, you’ll be off to get your robe and wings, and then, off to Orientation Class. The Wardrobe Mistress will direct you there. After Class, I’ll come around to get you and we’ll go to Choir rehearsal together.”<br/><br/>“And you’ll be getting my ukulele for me.”<br/><br/>“That may take a few days, as I said.”<br/><br/>“But you’ll do it.”<br/><br/>Freddie smiled. “I promise. Now, off you go.” He pointed Tiny in the right direction. “See you soon!”<br/><br/>“Thank you so much, Mr. Mercury. You’ve been delightful.” Tiny drifted away, humming <em>Tiptoe Thru the Tulips</em> to himself.<br/><br/>Freddie watched until Tiny was out of his sight. Then he let loose with a whooshing sigh of relief. “That was a tough Check In, indeed – but to have reassured him sufficiently and made him so ridiculously happy made it all worthwhile. Oh, how I love my job!”<br/><br/>No sooner had Freddie finished his sentence than another Newcomer appeared before the desk; this time, a middle-aged woman.<br/><br/>Freddie smiled and opened his arms wide. “Welcome!”<br/><br/>“Freddie Mercury?”<br/><br/>“That’s my name, dear!”<br/><br/>The woman began to sob. “Then I must be in Hell…”<br/><br/>“Oh, fuck,” Freddie groaned, “not <em>again</em>!”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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